


Woke Up The Lions

by thatisnotokay



Series: I Spy With My Pining Eye [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dancing Lance, Fluff, Homesick Lance - mentioned, Klance if you squint, Langst if you squint, Pining Keith (Voltron), Song Lyrics, Songfic, happy lance, singing lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 04:10:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10563429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatisnotokay/pseuds/thatisnotokay
Summary: Keith stumbles on Lance singing with Blue one late night, and falls in love with his laughter





	

**Author's Note:**

> every time I hear "Chained to the Rhythm" ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8gsGhdZDC-0 ), I always think of Lance singing it. dunno why, just always do. it's always either him singing to Blue or him after he's been brainwashed/drugged/seduced by some alien siren thing (that fic would have taken way longer to write tho)
> 
> also I just like Blue and Lance. I love their dynamic and I feel like Lance really needs Blue as like, a foothold sometimes when he gets too homesick or when his head is spinning with too many thoughts. but thats not really the point of this fic, there's not really a point of this fic.
> 
> Klance if you squint. barely. honestly you could probably staple your eyes open and still see it; but also if you don't want to see it you don't have to
> 
> if anyone wants to like, god forbid, draw this... hmu 
> 
> also this was written in like. two hours. so.

Instead of wandering the castle like any sane person would do when they were woken up by a pounding migraine, Keith stretched his legs and arms by crossing the castle and gathering tools from Coran's “janitor's closet,” dubbed courtesy of Lance and Hunk. He collected what he deemed necessary in a makeshift toolbox (he thought it looked more like a rectangular metal beach bag) and made his way to his Lion.  
  
Keith rested the toolbox against his hip, the press of the metal corner digging into his skin through his pants. He flung the towel he had over his shoulder so he could press his palm against the castle's security pad. The device scanned his hand with its weird, neon green-blue light. It took a second before it beeped, recognizing him in its database. It took another short moment before opening the door with a small hiss of air, granting him access to the Lion's resting hangar. The cool air inside rushed him, blowing his bangs out of his face and sending a throb of pain to his temple.  
  
_I haven't done maintenance on Red in awhile; maybe it'll kill this annoying headache. If anything, maybe I can just hop inside and grab some Z's. I don't think she'd mind._  
  
He was halfway to Red when he heard a voice startle him out of his thoughts. Without really thinking about it, he snatched the towel from his shoulder as if it was a weapon, ready to smack the shit out of whatever enemy had wandered in overnight.  
  
_It's four in the fucking morning, who's in here?_ He leaned over to put the toolbox in his hands down, but not before switching out his wimpy towel-weapon for a large space wrench. He glided over to the door to the room where he heard the voice coming from, and stopped.  
  
It was... singing?  
  
Keith, not having peeked inside yet, furrowed his brow as he listened closer. No, yeah, that was definitely singing; it was a mixture of hums, short vocalizing, and a few words mixed in between. He looked at Red, resting offline nearby, as if the mechanical space Lion would be able to tell him just what the quiznak was happening. There was a low purr in his chest, like Red was telling him, _Look._  
  
Keith knew it was the blue Lion's hangar, and yet he was still mildly surprised when he saw a bob of rich brown hair and a flash of smooth brown skin dart— no, _dance_ \-- around the blue Lion. Keith had seen Lance dance before, though usually it was quick, showy moves that looked more jerky and awkward than the drawn out, almost fluid gestures he was doing now; it was like the difference between a middle schooler trying to dance hip hop, and a veteran ballerina performing for a crowd. Lance was polishing Blue's head, with his feet still on the ground so he could clean what would be considered the Lion's jaw. His hands were busy rubbing the polish into a few scratches Blue had acquired on the last mission, but his shoulders and hips and legs were moving like the simple motion of his hands were conducting the rest of his body in an elaborate dance. Even his feet were soft and silent as he moved them, nearly hopping from one foot to another to gracefully draw his foot up the side of his bare leg, like he was tracing the outline of it with his toes.  
  
Keith wasn't sure what exactly he was humming, but it sounded like it belonged in a kid's show— he might have even heard it in a Disney princess film before, when he was still young enough to watch them without embarrassment. He didn't have time to consider the tune enough to pin it to a memory, because the low humming soon stopped. Lance had seemingly gotten all of the scratches out of that area and was moving on to another part, climbing up onto Blue's large head with the gracefulness of a toddler.  
  
Even though his voice was quieter than usual, Keith could still make out Lance's words in the stillness of the night: “That's a boring tune. You deserve something a little more upbeat, don't you, beautiful?”  
  
_Why is he always complimenting his Lion? It's a robot Lion. It doesn't care if it's beautiful._ Another purr in his head from Red made him think that may not be true, but he didn't have time to fully acknowledge the thought before a sudden gasp from Lance jolted him in place. Ready to run in if something was wrong, Keith relaxed when Lance exclaimed, “I have just the song!  
  
“Hold on, lemme see—” Lance took a few tools and tapped them experimentally against Blue. He did it a few times before he seemed content, setting up a rhythm of taps that, even to Keith, started to sound like music. He used one hand to tap out the beat a few more times and used his free hand to clap against his thigh. At the same time, he started singing again.  
  
“Are we _craaaa_ -zyyy?” he sung, his voice warmed up from the earlier vocalizing. “Living our lives _throooough_ a _leeeens_?”  
  
Keith felt the space-wrench-weapon in his hand flop against his leg as his arm relaxed. He'd heard people sing in real life before, sure: there was a girl in the Garrison that always sang to get out her energy before class started; he'd pass people on the street who would bring out instruments and original songs to earn a little cash; even in the castleship, he'd sometimes pass by a room to catch Hunk and Lance having a duet battle, seeing who could remember the most lines. But then, there were grins and half-laughs interrupting the smoothness of the melodies and they used silly voices to try to sabotage the other. This was the first time Keith had heard Lance sing without stopping to poke fun or pitch his voice in a weird way, and it was the first time he felt something akin to the purrs from Red build in his chest as he listened. ( _Has he always been able to sing so well?_ )  
  
Lance had since stopped tapping tools against Blue (whether she told him to stop or if it wasn't needed anymore, Keith didn't know) and had started to clap against whatever he could, may it be both his hands, against his thigh, or against his hip. He was on his knees, perched on Blue's snout, using at least one of his hands to tighten bolts or rub away a scratch. Keith pointedly ignored the way his hips swayed lazily with the inaudible tune.  
  
“So comfortable we're living in a _bubble, bubble_ ,” Lance continued, bouncing his shoulders to the beat.  
  
Keith leaned against the doorframe and continued to watch the Cuban dance and sing, noting how Lance's voice quieted when he focused on a particularly deep scratch but refused to stop the flow of words. He noticed Lance's feet— bare— tapping ad flexing where they laid against Blue's nose. Eventually Lance got all of the scratches out, staying on Blue's nose to straighten up, using the entire upper half of his body to move with his voice. When he neared the chorus, Lance gave a shout and slid down Blue's cheek to land not as gracefully as he could have. Once his feet hit the floor, he started the chorus and started to swaying his hips in time with his clapping.  
  
“Stumbling around like a wasted zom- _bie_!” Keith thought he was going to fall, but the way Lance 'stumbled' over his long legs seemed choreographed, the boy not even missing a beat when he righted himself and jumped up with a “ _Yeah!”_ It was almost comical enough for Keith to laugh, if the red paladin hadn't caught a glimpse of brown skin at his hip at the last second.  
  
Lance's energy keeped growing, his movements shifting from fluid, almost lazy hip swaying and claps against his thighs to full-on lifting his hands to clap above his head and energetically using his lower half to keep a beat by the time he got to the second chorus. His voice had taken on a hearty note the more he got into the song, his voice rising and dragging out the notes wherever he deemed necessary (or maybe it was part of the song, Keith didn't know.)  
  
Keith thought he had forgotten the next part when Lance's body stopped suddenly, planting both feet on the ground and straightening his shoulders as he faced Blue as if he was addressing her. But he picked up immediately, dropping his voice and losing the previous melody. His lower body hardly moved, hips locked as his arms moved with his voice.  
  
“Time is ticking for the _empire_!” he nearly shouted the last word, raising his arms in a way that reminded Keith of victory. The grin on Lance's face reminded him of smugness, but it was contagious and he was smiling before he could catch himself. Flushing, he directed his attention to Blue, and although she wasn't his Lion, he could almost sense the way she was dancing with Lance through their connection, wrapping around his very being and purring along with the song in his head.  
  
As if she got tired of sitting still, Blue lifted her head and lit up, eyes bright even with all the overhead lights on. Lance's face lit up in time to hers, and his voice seemed to hitch in glee. He nearly burst at the seams with energy as he sang, “They stumbling and fumbling, and we're about to _riot!_  
  
“They woke up, they woke up the _Lions_!”  
  
Blue gave a short, but chilling roar.  
  
(While Keith could feel the sheer power in her battle cry, all he could think of was the videos he'd seen back on Earth where someone's pet began to sing along to the radio.)  
  
Feeling validated, Lance's energy increased tenfold ( _How is that possible?_ ). His voice was rich and colorful as he sung his heart out, and Keith saw his eyes close when he got sucked into the feeling. His arms were perpetually in the air and he danced and bounced around in circles, spinning wildly enough to make his short bangs go haywire across his forehead. Laughter seeped into the lyrics, but didn't break up the fluidity of it like Keith had heard in the duet-battles. It amplified the beauty of the song, a sound to match the joy in Lance's eyes.  
  
_I've... never heard him laugh before,_ Keith realized with a sudden, dull thump in his chest. _In the sing-offs, or whatever, it was always Hunk laughing. Lance was always the one with those stupid voices._  
  
Keith felt his smile soften as that sunk in. His low energy seemingly seeped across the room as Lance reached the climax of his song, his body stilling and his voice taking a softer note as he sang the last few lyrics, holding the long notes with such a velvet-smooth voice that Keith almost couldn't breathe. The last note ended, and it felt like time had stopped, Lance dropping his arms to his sides, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath from all the wild dancing and singing.  
  
Keith felt like he was spying all of a sudden (a purr from Red told him he had been spying the entire time), and he almost ducked his head to leave before he heard another soft sound from the blue paladin.  
  
_He's laughing again._ It was soft this time, like an afterthought; it didn't match the unadulterated energy from a few seconds ago. If Keith didn't know any better, he'd think Lance sounded like his mother when he laughed. (But he didn't know better: he'd never met Lance's mother or heard her laugh, although he feels like he could have with how much Lance talked about her and boasted about how she's the best mother in the entire universe.)  
  
He was pulled from his thoughts when Lance spoke, voice hushed like he was ashamed, like he was keeping a secret.  
  
“I never feel homesick with you, Blue... Thank you.”  
  
The nagging feeling that Keith should leave ( _turn around, go back to your room, don't watch anymore, what the fuck is wrong with you?_ ) doubled as he watched Lance approach Blue, now with her chin on the ground like she had been before, and close his eyes and gently press his forehead against the metal of her body. He watched as Lance's shoulders tensed slightly, and was afraid the boy would start crying; Keith's breath caught in his throat.  
  
There was a tell-tale hiss of a door opening. Lance tore himself away from his Lion, and Keith ducked behind the wall as Allura rushed in the door opposite of where Keith was.  
  
“Lance? Was that the Blue Lion? Is everything alright? I thought I heard—”  
  
“Princess, relax! It's all good, we were just... hanging out.” Lance's voice was easy going, if not a little tired. Maybe Keith imagined his shoulders tensing up. “I egged 'er on, it's nothing, just a false alarm. Go back to sleep.”  
  
Allura started to speak again, but Keith's legs couldn't keep him in place anymore. Space wrench still in his hand, he quickly exited through the nearest door, a vague feeling of “ _you just spied on your friend, dude_ ” in the back of his skull until he reached his room. He wanted to think about feeling bad for watching Lance in such a vulnerable moment, but the ten pound bags under his eyes restricted him from thinking about much other than sleep; it seems that waking up at 4 in the goddamn AM isn't ideal for his sleep schedule.  
  
Keith listened to his body telling him to get in bed so he could promptly pass the fuck out, dropping the wrench with a thud on the floor. He didn't bother to remove his boots (Lance's voice in his head teased him about being a desert gremlin) and flopped onto the mattress face-first.  
  
The last thoughts in his head were in this order: his headache was gone; Lance had a really nice laugh; He was going to get Lance to laugh again, even if it killed him.


End file.
